


A Permanent Fixture

by Puffinpastry



Series: Sugar Sick [1]
Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Adult Veronica, Angst, Body Modification, Branding, Burns, Dark, Darkspawn AU, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Luminary, Heavy Angst, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Outdoor Sex, Tallronica, Tattoo Kink, piercing kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puffinpastry/pseuds/Puffinpastry
Summary: “I want to give you my mark. I want to show the world that you’re mine, now and always.” The Iron was heavy in his hands, but as Eleven spoke he felt as light as air. “Rings rust, and tattoos fade. But this,” his heart was beating in his ears, “this would be forever.”
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Series: Sugar Sick [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660213
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	A Permanent Fixture

Octogonia seemed to be different than the other towns Eleven had visited so far.

It didn’t have a seedy underbelly hidden beneath its ritzy exterior, it didn’t have a few seedy streets to find hidden behind its wealth.

Instead,  _ all  _ of the city was filthy.

It was a town untouched by sunlight, and Eleven had never felt more at home.

The stench of blood hung heavy in the air, a smell turned sour by the addition of overflowing garbage and half-empty pints of beer overturned by the people fighting in the bars and streets.

Absolutely  _ nothing  _ was hidden from view.

People spoke freely about their city. They had nothing to hide. There were no soldiers to enforce their laws, if there were any laws to begin with. In fact, the only rules Eleven had even heard about all pertained to their MMA fights.

Speaking of which…

Eleven had planned on just taking their prize and leaving. There wouldn’t be anyone around strong enough to stop him.  _ Especially  _ not with his little thief around to watch his back.

No, no. The trouble came with the twins. Especially the red one.

For someone meant to keep  _ him  _ safe, she sure had a lot of questions and comments about his actions.

That, and he actually wanted to check out the match. 

Cutting down people freely, in front of a stadium of people?

_ That  _ was a dream come true. 

He’d check over the rules once more, just to decide whether or not it was worth his time, just to make sure the rules wouldn’t limit the amount of damage he could do.

The  _ crack  _ of bone on bone drew Eleven from his thoughts.

Two men had begun to brawl, presumably fighting over the bunny-ear clad puffpuff girl standing nearby,leaning comfortably against a wall, watching the bloody spectacle as if it was something she saw day-to-day.

Eleven stopped to watch as well. The blood freely flying, the stark white of the tooth sitting on the ground, knocked far clean of the fight by the first punch… it was mesmerizing. 

He saw it when the second man stood, drawing back his arm to retaliate. Stretching from his elbow up to his shoulder, was a drawing of a naked woman.

Black and red ink, though, that might not be a part of it. 

A tattoo. 

No one really had them in his old crumbled village.

The town of elderly nobodies didn’t do anything like that.

They grew vegetables and watched their lives pass them by. 

He only knew of tattoos from the drawings of pirates in the story-books he'd read as a child.

He touched the gold ring hanging from one ear. 

He’d swiped the earrings from a merchant in Hotto, and had Erik do the piercing not long ago.

The fresh ring was still sore to the touch, but he quite liked it.

He’d even managed to convince Erik to give himself a couple more, with some sweet words and a gift of more of the swiped metalwork.

This was hardly the first ink he’d seen since they’d arrived, and most of it was far more… tasteful, but it did get him thinking.

Since these two gentlemen were busy, Eleven headed off in search of another.

He’d only climbed two sets of the frankly absurd number of staircases in the city when he found another.

He was a blacksmith. Head and face covered, but his chest bare. All kinds of patterns and designs covered him from waist to neck, from wrist to shoulder.

Some of it was tribal, some of it was script, and El could make out a few monsters, looking much more intimidating inked on skin than they had ever managed to be in life, but still.

This was exactly what he was looking for.

Eleven walked slowly, hands down at his sides. Hopefully the man was bright enough to realize a fight wasn’t what he wanted, but if this man threw a punch… well, it hadn’t been hard to find him. He could surely find another in no time.

“What’chu want?” The man’s voice was gruff, and his words slurred together as if he couldn’t talk properly, reminding Eleven of the old woman that ran the shop in Cobblestone who had lost most of her teeth in her old age.

Eleven gave a smile, “I wanted to ask you about your tattoos.” 

“What about’em?”

The man was patient, which was more than Eleven had hoped to expect. He answered each of his questions. How  _ painful  _ were they, really? How much did it cost? How to find a reputable artist? 

“And it’s permanent? Completely permanent?” 

“Eh, pretty much.” The man shrugged. “They sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere, but sometimes they can fade a’bit. You’ll have to keep ‘em touched up.”

The corners of Eleven’s smile turned down. Fade? That wasn’t right. “Are there any that are?”

“Well…” the man hesitated. “I don’t want to give no kids any ideas.”

“I’m not a child.” Eleven said, a purple glint in the corner of his eye, bleeding into the whites. A purple haze took over his vision. If this man wasn’t going to  _ willingly  _ hand over the information he wanted…

The man hesitated for just a moment more. “You’d be hard pressed ‘t find it in any place other than Octogonia.” He explained, one hand coming up to scratch at his neck. “There’s a couple of things you can do. There’s intentional scarring, for one. Bloody terrifyin’ if you ask me. What happens is, you cut an’ scrape a pattern into your flesh, and let it scar over. It’s messy, and the wounds can get infected before you can do anything’ about it.” 

No, that wouldn’t work. Something like that would take forever to heal without spells, and spells would heal everything up too well, not a mark left behind.

But the man wasn’t finished.

“An’ then, there’s branding.”

_ Branding _ ? “Like what you do to livestock?” Eleven asked, gleefully. The purple began to vanish, leaving behind only the dark of Octogonia.

“Exactly.” The man nodded. “They’re dangerous, too. Take a while to heal. But you don’t have ‘t keep them as clean as the scars. The more you mess with it, the more it scars over, the more ‘ya see it.”

_ Oh, this was exactly what he wanted. _ Eleven pressed the man for more information, on how it was done, and the spell he cast remained strong.

Eleven left right away, heading away from the inn and out into the night, knowing exactly what he was going to do.

~~

The forge Erik had gifted him had come in so  _ very  _ useful. It fit in his pocket, it allowed him to craft blades so sharp they cut on sight, and now…

This would hardly be the first time Eleven used a fire brand. 

Growing up in a farming village did have its perks, apparently. 

He held up his new iron, checking for imperfections or errors in its symmetry. But it was perfect.

It was his mark after all, he literally knew it like the back of his hand.

The head of the brand was smooth, and the handle sat heavy in his grasp. 

All he needed now was his sweet little thief. 

“I’ve got something to show you.” Eleven said, his voice dripping like honey. He pulled Erik up to stand against him, one hand carefully on the small of his back, while the other held him close around the shoulders. 

He swayed them side to side gently. 

He could feel his thief’s racing heartbeat against his own.

“I had an idea.” Eleven continued on, “I want to do something for us. Something to bind you to me  _ forever _ .”

“Forever?” Erik whispered against his skin, “like… marriage?” He sounded hopeful. Like he wanted it.

“Oh, no.” Eleven said, “marriage is hardly permanent. Married couples can fall out of love… they can get divorced… they can leave each other. My idea is more than a ring. It’s for as long as we live.”

Eleven stilled, and drew back just far enough to look into his boy’s big blue eyes.

His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were dusted pink, creating the most wonderful contrast to his hair. His mouth was ever so slightly open, and his breath was coming fast.

Eleven didn’t need spells on this one.

“Would you let me show you?”

Erik nodded.

“It’s just outside town. I’ll zoom us to the exit, okay? We don’t want to wake the girls.”

Erik held tight to him, and the deep magenta of his magic wrapped around them.

Fresh air.

It smelled so sweet after the musk of Octogonia. 

The moon was full, lighting up the stone and brittle grasses of the land. 

Eleven took only a moment to bask in the cold light before he took Erik by the hand, and let him further into the dark.

No monsters reared their ugly heads this close to town, so they should be safe for now. 

Eleven unpacked the forge for the second time tonight, and took out his new iron.

He turned to Erik, and held it out to him. 

“I want to give you my mark. I want to show the world that you’re mine, now and always.” The Iron was heavy in his hands, but as Eleven spoke he felt as light as air. “Rings rust, and tattoos fade. But  _ this, _ ” his heart was beating in his ears, “this would be forever.”

Erik hesitated, looking at the iron, still stone cold, but the forge ready to bring it to a searing white hot.

“It’ll hurt.” Eleven said, “it’ll hurt so much. But I know you can take it, Erik. I know you’re strong enough… and, sometime later, sometime after I’m done… if you really, really want, we could get married.”

Erik looked up instantly. “Really?”

Eleven smiled, “of course. We’ll get married,” he began walking closer to Erik, “we’ll be dressed in white, we’ll have flowers and cake,  _ anything you want _ .”

He was almost there,  _ so close  _ to saying yes. “In fact, consider this my proposal.”

Eleven dropped down carefully onto one knee, holding the iron in one hand, and reaching to take one of Erik’s with the other.

“Erik,” he asked, “will you marry me?”

In a rush, Erik was on the ground with Eleven, his arms holding Eleven around his chest, Erik’s head nestled between his neck and shoulder.

“Yes,” Erik said, his voice cracking. “I’ll do it, yes, I’ll marry you, I’ll take the brand.”

Eleven dropped the iron for just a moment, and wrapped Erik up in his arms. “I knew you would,” he pressed a kiss to Erik’s neck, just under his ear. “I knew you would.”

The brand heated fast, Eleven keeping it in the heat until it was nearly molten. 

He felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple, and took the brand out of the fire. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Eleven turned to Erik, who stood still, shivering in the cold night, tunic discarded by his feet. His arms were crossed over his chest, but El could still see the faintest remains of a scar, a scar borne of dark magic. A mark someone  _ else  _ had left on  _ his  _ thief.

It only made him want this more.

Holding the iron away from them both, El used his free hand to hold Erik by his chin. 

He leaned in to kiss Erik, just long enough to steal his breath, to make him dizzy. “Ready?”

Erik nodded silently, moving his arms out of the way, trembling slightly, in apprehension, while Eleven had to steady himself from the excitement burning in his chest.

He stood behind Erik, one arm wrapped around Erik’s middle, keeping his arms restrained and him supported, and with the other, touched the brand to Erik’s chest. He couldn’t see the contact, but hoped it was aligned properly. 

If it wasn’t, well… Eleven wasn’t the  _ most  _ adept with healing spells, but he was sure he could do well enough to try again.

The iron mark stretched from just under his collar bone to the bottom of Erik’s sternum. Much, much larger than El’s own mark.

The contact made a noise not unlike the sizzle of meat on an iron skillet, and at once, it was overtaken by the half-scream that tore out of Erik’s throat. 

Erik jerked, his body moving on instinct away from the heat.

“Careful, now.” Eleven whispered against Erik’s temple. “We don’t want to have to re-do this.”

Erik’s cry turned low, smaller sounds of pain punctuated by the tears now rolling down his cheek, by the blood of his bitten lip as he tried to quiet himself, as he tried to escape the pain.

Eleven kept the iron pressed down, counting off the seconds until-

He took the brand off.

Erik gasped in air, taking his first deep breath since the brand went on, in what was only seconds but felt like hours.

His knees gave way below him, kept upright only by Eleven’s support,

Quickly dropping the brand, El stopped his fall, and carefully lowered the both of them to the ground, keeping Erik tucked up against his chest.

“It’s alright,” El said, calling up a simple  _ heal  _ spell. Not much, just enough to take away the bleeding. “You did well. You did so very well.”

Erik was crying freely, sobs shaking his body, big crocodile tears flowing freely. 

Eleven gave him a few moments to cry, a few moments before he would check his handiwork.

A few moments before-

The tears began to dry up, and Eleven looked over the brand.

He’d need to see it in daylight as well, but it looked to be clean.

The edges of the pattern were blackened, and the lightest of the burn was still an angry red.

Around the wound was swollen, inflamed and nearly bruised. 

Blood dripped from the corners, flowing slowly in ruby colored rivulets. Not enough to be of any concern.

But enough for Eleven to feel alive.

“ _ So good _ .” Eleven praised again and again, “I knew you could do it.”

His fingers came just to where the redness began. 

“ _ All mine.” _

The mark would be visible through the laces of Erik’s tunic.

The wound would have to be bandaged for now, hidden from view. But soon enough, soon enough the world would be able to look at Erik, and know that he was Eleven’s, and Eleven’s alone.

The hand he had wrapped around Erik just under the brand moved lower. 

Erik jerked at the sudden touch, Eleven’s palm grinding down on him. He took in a sudden, shuddering breath, nails digging into the sandy earth beneath them.

“My little thief…” Eleven murmured into Erik’s ear.

Erik’s words came out light and breathy, “ _ yours.” _

Given permission, Eleven sank his teeth into Erik’s shoulder, breaking skin.

Erik gasped, his back arching up, the sudden sharp pain dulling the deep, pulsating pain of the brand.

Erik settled back against Eleven’s chest, closed his eyes, and spread his legs, canting his hips up into his… lover’s, fiancé’s touch, letting Eleven take away the pain.

Eleven pulled at the ties of Erik’s trousers, and pushed them down in a rush, leaving them around his knees.

_ By the goddess _ , the taste and smell of Erik’s blood was like a drug to Eleven’s addled mind. 

Holding his thief by the hips, he grinded up against Erik’s ass.

There was a small phial of oil in Eleven’s pocket, he’d nearly forgotten.

“ _ On your knees _ .” He growled, “ _ hands behind your back.” _

Erik obeyed immediately, shakily sitting up, holding his wrists crossed behind his back.

Eleven got to work quickly, pouring out a little of the oil over his fingers, circling twice before pressing the first one inside, hardly giving Erik time to do much as register the sensation before pressing on, working up a rhythm, and working in another finger.

Erik’s breathing wasn’t jagged, a mix of his pain, and the slowly mounting pleasure in his gut.

Stars floated in his vision as Eleven worked him open with one hand, the sharp nails on the other dragging down his side, across his stomach, coming close to touching him, but never dipping down low enough.

Eleven slicked himself with the remaining oil, and with both hands, pulled down on Erik’s hips.

Erik took in as deep of a breath as the pain let him, letting it out slowly as he sank down, past the initial stretch, until he was flesh against Eleven’s hips.

It was difficult to remain steady like this.

Dizzy from the pain, from the heat, hands behind his back with only Eleven’s hands on his hip bones, nails digging into his flesh, to keep him upright.

His head hung low, looking down at his own body, at the mark on his chest, his blood dripping down.

His new promise.

Stamped forever on his chest.

The new life that lay over the horizon.

“ _ Move _ .”

Swallowing hard, Erik pushed up on his knees, stopped for a heartbeat, and moved back down slowly, testing the waters. 

He set a slow pace, in no rush to bring this to an end.

It’d been so long since Eleven had taken him like this, out below the stars, just like their first time together, laying together in the tall grasses in the mountain pass, in the water below the falls… 

The nails cut, sharp as a cats claws.

Eleven took over, guiding Erik’s movements, moving just enough to change the angle, thrusting up as Erik moved down.

The pain, heat, pleasure, Erik couldn’t control his voice anymore.

Small sounds at first, little innocuous things, but as Eleven took one hand away from his hip to take him in hand, “E...Eleven,” The name left with his breath, “ _ Eleven. _ ” He tipped his head to the side, “ _ please _ .”

The rhythm faltered, and Eleven’s teeth were meeting his skin again.

Erik cried, thrusting against them hand that hand him in its grip, searching for just a little more friction, more contact, the last burst of pain all he needed to reach his edge, Eleven still pumping him through it, still keeping his speed as he sought his own release, leaving Erik trembling and overstimulated.

His teeth left as he pulled out.

Erik felt Eleven’s come drip down his thigh, and then his tongue on his neck, licking up the blood that had trickled from the bite marks.

He let go of his own wrist, letting his now sore and stiff arms rest.

Erik settled back down against Eleven’s chest, catching his breath. “ _ Love you. _ ” 

“I know.”

~~

“There you are!” Veronicas shrill voice cut through El’s peace, “we’ve been looking for you all over- what in the goddess’s name?” She took a hurried step back as she took in the scene before her. El seated comfortably, propped up against a boulder, Erik, crying and shaking in his arms, a fresh brand of the mark of light on his chest, and the very same branding iron, cooled off just inches away from them both.

“Oh, dear!” Serena called up her healing magic, but before the spell was anything more than teal-ish light around her hands, Eleven threw one arm out, a purple membrane protecting them both.

“ _ No. _ ” Eleven commanded, “do  _ not  _ heal this.”

Sylv looked between the two, Erik pale and drawn, in obvious pain, blood drying on his skin. 

Eleven, holding the boy close to him, disheveled, face twisted in fury.

Stains of a very  _ clear  _ origin on their clothing, and finally, an iron brand off to the side.

“I don’t know what kind of game you boys are playing, but this is too dangerous.”

The protective field held strong. 

“You’re going to miss the tournament, dear.” Sylv said, trying a new approach. “And poor Erik needs some proper rest, and something to eat. No healing magic, I promise.”

Eleven ground his teeth together. He could go without the stupid fucking tournament. 

He got what he wanted from this town.

He’d just take the prizes and leave-

“Go and fight,” Sylv pressed on, “go knock some heads and get it out of your system. We need that prize, now, don’t forget.”

The purple magic dissipated, and ever so reluctantly, Eleven stood, helping Erik to his feet.

He nearly fell, knees buckling under his own weight, lightheaded from his bottomed out adrenaline, and legs weak from the night he’d had. Food was a good idea… 

Sylvia took one arm around his shoulders, and ever so carefully began to help the boy back into town.

Eleven watched them go, collecting Erik’s tunic, the forge, and stashing away the iron for safekeeping.

His mind was on the night.

How much he loved leaving his mark on Erik.

The promise he’d made.

Perhaps marriage wasn’t such a bad idea… but a gold ring may be a little much when a collar would do so well.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It only gets darker from here, baby!


End file.
